Shower Escapade
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: He wanted her, but he couldn't have her. And she wanted him, but she feared that he wasn't available. But sometimes, lowering your inhibitions is all you need to get things straight. Belated Christmas gift for Country2776, M rated.


**Title: **Shower escapade**  
**

**Author:**Little_firestar84

**Rating:** M

**Word Count:** 3235+

**Characters:** Jane/Lsibon

**Genre**: Romance, Hurt/Comfort.

**Summary:** He wanted her, but he couldn't have her. And she wanted him, but she feared that he wasn't available. But sometimes, lowering your inhibitions is all you need to get things straight.

**Disclaimer:** Uhm, no, no way.

**Notes: belated Christmas gift for Country2776 . **

* * *

Patrick Jane was bored. Apparently, late on Friday night, with the exception of who was on call for the night shift (and the guys from Fraud hated his guts), the CBI was like a desert.

And he couldn't sleep.

It wasn't just insomnia to taunt his life, now, after he had opened the proverbial can of worms, there was also something else in the middle too... there was carnal desire. With Lorelai, he hadn't even know if he could have performed, but guess what? The equipment was still in working order, he realized with a grin, and now he knew for sure. No risk of embarrassing himself for lack of or premature ejaculation.

But there was a problem. It wasn't like he was ready to bed every walking and breathing female. Nope. Only one could do for him. And that one... he wasn't so sure she still wanted him. Not after Vegas. Not after Lorelai. Not after... After everything.

But he wanted her, oh, how much he wanted her! He wondered if she knew that she was in every dream he had, that every time they touched, he had to resist the urge of getting her naked and ready for his cock, that every time he saw her asleep on that couch of hers, he couldn't help but thinking of her beneath him, accepting his sex, that when she talked, all he saw were her lips around his cock...

_"Mmmmm..." _

He stopped in his tracks as he heard something strange. He lifted his eyebrows, and once he heard the noise again, he waltzed in its direction, wondering what was going on. He knew that curiosity killed the cat, but right now, he was an horny, bored cat, and since sex was out of the question...

He reached the showers stalls, and heard the sound again and again. He froze, realizing that someone was actually moaning, and slowly, he made his way towards such person. Yes, he wasn't a lion heart, but if someone was in danger... or hurt...

well, he simply had to do something about it.

"_Mmmmmm...ahhhh...!" _

He froze yet again. Because...yes, he wasn't exactly a tombeur de femmes, but he was a man, a man who knew how satisfy with his equipment a woman. And those sounds? It was a woman on the verge of orgasm.

He closed his eyes, clenching fists and teeth, and forced himself to leave even if his cock had escaped the confines of his tailored pants. He wasn't going to spy on a woman pleasuring herself. He wasn't such a pervert, no matter how horny he was. It was bad enough masturbating on his own, but jacking off on an unknown woman creaming herself thinking about who knew whom? No way. No freaking way.

He had already made a couple of steps, finally resolute and satisfied with the outcome, when he stopped once more, because of what he was hearing...

"_Ohhhhhh...Jane...mmmmm...please..."_

That woman, that someone was calling his name while masturbating. And it was not any person. He knew that voice. That voice had taunted his own dreams- even if in Technicolor was so much better than in his mind- and...

Naughty Teresa Lisbon was pleasuring herself and thinking about him. She was getting off by thinking about him.

Oh, lord, he grunted... someone hated him. But maybe...

Maybe destiny loved him. After all, he had been given an unique occasion, and he would be damned if he wasn't going to take advantage of it! After all... she wasn't an unknown woman, and she was creaming herself thinking about him, and not who knew whom!

He slowly made his way towards the stalls, and hid himself in a way that he could see her but that she couldn't see him.

She was wonderful, he admitted gasping for lack of air. Pale, toned body, slender, long legs, swollen, parted lips, perfect breasts, big enough to fill his hungry hands, tiny, erect nipples, dark red, and...and...

Oh, lord. She was completely bare! He would have never guessed so! He had always assumed that tomboy Lisbon assumed that if there were hairs, there were supposed to be hairs, but instead, her pussy was well-shaved...

Well, in a way it made sense. Since she had always had to emasculate herself on the outside, in order to properly feel feminine, Lisbon would wear sexy underwear and be as erotic as she could be and...

Was he really thinking about such a thing right now?

He shook his head, and freed his cock, gasping in relief when it sprang free. He took it his hand, pumping it while he couldn't stop looking at Teresa. She was moaning, eyes closed in bliss, the shower spray hitting her clit with a jet of water.

Like having Teresa Lisbon masturbating wasn't bad enough... now he had her masturbating with the shower head.

He picked up tempo as he noticed that she was close, she had put the head directly against her groin, in a way that the water would fill like the hardest fuck...

And then...

Then she went on the floor, lining on the cold floor, crying out loud her release as Jane was getting a very good view of her completely spread legs... she was so tight, that he could only imagine how fucking her could be like-mind-blowing, that was for sure.

Like that, she cried out her ecstasy, her voice filling his whole being, and as he saw her face contorted in orgasm, the woman he loved so much panting after having invoked his name one last time, he followed her over the edge, spattering his hands and clothes with his slick juice, cumming like a volcano. So much cum, all for her, all because of her!

And he was loud. Forgetting that she was there. That he wasn't alone. That the only reason he had pleasured himself to begin with was because he was spying on her pleasuring herself thinking about him...

He made himself as small as possible, ready for his impending death, because he knew that Lisbon wasn't going to forgive and forget that easily, and when he felt her approaching, he knew his end was there.

Not a criminal killed him, but an hand-job. What a way to die, sure, but still...

"CBI, hands in the air!" he finally dared to open his eyes as he heard her angered voice, and that was his undoing, his biggest mistake, for Teresa Lisbon was right before him in the nude, holding a gun at him like some heroine from an erotic spy movie... and he went from satisfied limp to rock hard again, just like that.

"Jane...?" she said, the breath dying in her throat, the gun still at his head, but her staring eyes focused on his cock.

"Lisbon...I know what it looks like, but I have an explanation..." he tried to say, to defend himself, but she wasn't paying any attention. She was simply staring at his cock...huge, silky, violet with arousal, so hard she was sure it hurt... but after all, she was no girl for vanilla sex. She loved an hard ride.

"What's to explain, Jane? You were horny, saw a beautiful woman masturbating with the shower while thinking of fucking you, and you jerked off, coming into your own pants." she told casually, like she was talking about the weather. She went on her knees, and got rid of the gun, skimming his erection with a single digit. "and now... you are horny again. So, tell me, Jane, what do you plan of doing about it?"

He looked at her, kneed right before him, with lifted eyebrows and a quizzical look, a little scared. Sure there was no way... "Uhm...Lisbon, is that a joke?"

And just like that, the butterflies in her stomach were gone, and it was like ice cold water had been dropped all over her. She jumped on her feet, and braced herself, trying to shield her nudity from his view, suddenly ashamed. But mostly, overwhelmingly sad.

She shook her head, with teary eyes, and her desperation was clear in her voice when she finally spoke... desperation, and rage, and so much more. She was so mad, but honestly? She didn't even know whom she was supposed to be really mad with, if with Jane, or herself. So, she did the only reasonable thing in such a situation...

She slapped him on the face. Hard.

"Good to know that I am worth nothing to you, to...you know what? You are sad and pathetic. But maybe it's my fault. Maybe I should join a cult or some serial killer to became worthy of your attention. Is it going to be enough, Jane? Or will I always be second best...wait, no...I am not second best! I am, what? Last position? Or does Grace come after me? No, wait, she didn't, because after O'Laughlin, you at least talked with her. Me? I had lost my job. I was hurt and alone, and what did you do?"

"I forced Bertram to take you back! You know that I..."

"Of course you did!" she stopped him, still shaking her head, now completely out of control. She had kept everything buried, deep down, and now that she had opened the can, she couldn't get it closed any longer. She had to let everything out, just like Pandora's box. "But it wasn't because I can control you. It's because you can control me, and I've allowed you just because... because I've been that stupid to think that I could change you, that I...that I mattered, that I was important. But nobody is important to you but yourself, right? You, and your vengeance. You even threw away your fidelity to your wife because of one of Red john's minion!"

She could see him tensing, could see the obsession, the rage, the craziness. She knew he wanted to hurt her, but that he was resisting-barely. But she didn't care. She just wanted to hurt him. Hurt him as much as he did her.

"You didn't touch a woman for almost ten years, Jane. You weren't supposed to sleep around after being celibate in your wife's memory for a decade! It was supposed to matter, but you even ruined it yourself... because you are just a liar and a cheater..."

"Teresa... I never lied to you...I've always been honest and..."

"No, no Jane" she told him, still crying, but now resigned, lost. "You've been honest with me only when you needed me to get out of troubles. You remember Colpepper? Or when you asked me to fake my own death to get to Red John? And mostly...you remember when you didn't tell me about Red John quoting Blake? Or your faked breakdown? Or when you made Lorelai escape? Or, that's even better... did you think I didn't know you've been taking Belladonna lately? Is that why you were here jerking off on me taking a shower? Because you are so high you were imagining Lorelai? Or is it Erika Flynn? Or maybe Van Pelt... " She cried, desperate, her words broken by sobs, all the while hitting him on the chest.

"Teresa, you know that it's not what..." he plead, but still, he didn't try to stop her. Maybe he thought she needed this. Maybe he thought he deserved it.

"Why did you lie to me when you told me that you loved me?" she demanded.

"Teresa, please, listen to me, you don't..."

"WHY?!" She finally screamed, hitting his chest with her bare fists with all the strength she could master. "Why can't you love me?"

He didn't say a word. He didn't even stop her from hitting him. Looking at her, he realized that he deserved it all, the fists and the words. Because of his mistakes. He had taken her for granted, had always expected her to live up to his need for help, like she was some servant, but he had forgotten that she was only human. She had feelings. And she loved him, loved him so much that her heart was shattered because he had always betrayed her. When he lied. When he run to Vegas. When he slept, for the first time after almost a decade, with a woman who wasn't his wife, and instead of someone he cared about, he loved... she was right. By sleeping with Lorelai he had cheated on both women, Angela and Teresa herself.

It should have been her, he knew it, but... but she was right. When Red John was involved, he was crazy, obsessed, all his rationality was gone.

But maybe...just maybe...not all hope was gone, right? Because... he had had sex with Lorelai, and... he had never been fully there, so maybe...it could still count, right? He wouldn't have sex with Lisbon. He would make love to Teresa.

Because she was wrong about one thing. Even if he had denied it afterward, he hadn't lied that evening. He loved her.

He grabbed her for the shoulders, even if she struggled to get free, and kissed her, hard. At first, she tried to push him away, to get free, but he wasn't listening, and then, she felt them on her skin, wet, warm, tears...

His tears.

She started to cry too, and opened her mouth to him. He didn't waste any time, and eagerly he thrust his tongue in her. Neither of them tried to take control, if was like they were, finally, meeting halfway, like they were melting in each other.

She finally got the whole "one plus one is equal one" thing.

She stopped hitting him, and her hands went around his neck, grabbing him for the curls. She pushed him towards her to deepen the kiss, and at the same time she explored-and enjoyed - the silky texture of his curls on her fingertips.

They were exactly like she had always dreamed them to be.

Jane didn't asked anything either, and while she was sensually rubbing her wet, naked body against him, keeping kissing her, he grunted his desire in her mouth, against her grinning lips, and explored her with idle fingers. He made her gulp when he grabbed her ass, pushing her against his towering erection, still free, he made her shiver when he skimmed over her sensitive nipples, the soft skin of her breasts, and he made her sigh in pleasure when he pushed two fingers to the hilt in her.

To be honest, while he skinned finger-fucked her with slow and precise, and mind-blowing movements, he sighed too. She was so, so wet... he could feel the wet of the water she had used to make herself come, and her own liquid heat, more dense, warmer... she had already spent her juices because of him once, and now she was getting ready to accept him, and this time for real...

But as much as he wanted this, he couldn't. Not like this.

He parted, and with his still erect cock, he looked at her, confused, sorry, even awkward. "Uhm...Listen Teresa, I am sorry, but... I can't." she looked at him with once again a lifted hand, ready to hit him, this time for real. She was going to hurt him the most where the sun didn't shine, when he lifted his hands in mock surrender. "hang on, I just want to make it like it is supposed to be. The first time I make love to you, it has to be inside a real bed, a not in a shower... or in the attic!"

She looked at him like he was the cutest puppy in the world, and once again reached him. She hugged him, her head on his shoulder, and tenderly kissed his chin while she rubbed his shoulders. "That's the nicest thing a man had ever done for me, Jane. Thank you. But before leaving..."

She chuckled, yet again kissing his chin. she made her way south, kissing every inch of skin and fabric she met on her way to her objective, and when she was done, she was on her knees, her lips on level with his cock, she caressed it with her cheeks like she was a kitty, looking at his eyes. With such a love and tenderness no one would have guessed what she was about to do.

"Teresa, honey, you don't have to..."

"Oh, please... you did it on your own once already, and there is no way in hell I'm allowing you to walk away with a thing like that in your pants. You'd die first, before reaching the attic." she told him, amused. It was good, she thought. Banter and humor were back. Thy couldn't return to what they were like, but at least...

They could be better, definitely.

She grabbed his cock with her right, keeping it for the base, and she guided it in her mouth. Slowly, she felt for it with her tongue, and when he started to ooze pre-cum, as his eyes were already rolling in his head, she took it in the whole way, until it didn't touch the back of the throat. She started to suck as she meant it, hallowing her cheeks for the effort, a sucking motion so strong he could barely thrust in and out the wet, thigh confines of her warm and wet mouth.

He moved one hand to her hair, tentatively, but he stopped few inches shy; like she had felt his desire, she grabbed his hand and brought it on her head, encouraging him to do as he pleased, and without hesitation now that he had her permission, he grabbed in his fist, forcefully, her raven dark curls, pushing her against his groin with all his strength.

She started moaning around his shaft because of the rush of feelings and desire and need that she felt as he did so, never witnessing something so erotic as Jane losing his cool because of her, and he lost it, completely, roaring as he erupted in her mouth, spur after spur of hot cum, filling her mouth, so much she couldn't drink it all. It overflew, and run on her chin, her throat, her collarbone, and with her free hand, as he kept fucking her mouth, she spattered it all on her body.

She loved the feel of his ejaculation on her breasts.

He stilled, and she finally felt like letting it go of his cock, and when she did, he fell on the ground, panting, as red as a tomato.

She giggled, the little minx. She giggled.

She took a paper towel from one of the toilets, and she cleaned him, and Jane breathed in relief when his cock turned just half-hard in her hands-he definitely didn't have in him to have another go at her so soon, and he really wanted to make it right to her.

She tucked it in, and then, she spooned at his side, kissing his chin once more, grateful to have at least this chance with him, that their relationship had finally evolved.

"Teresa?" he asked tentatively, and she was half scared he would chicken out. "I know that we love each other, but... can I wine and dine and woo you before we sleep together for the first time?" he asked, pouting.

She laughed, and embraced him.

Yes, they could have this little normality in their life. For now, at least.


End file.
